The Hunt
by x-juicy-lucy-x
Summary: The party and Larsa go on a hunt. Please r&r. Rated for the almost inevitable smut which will end up in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1: The Plan

**AN- **Just churned this out in about 40 minutes this evening. The next chapter shall be the hunt methinks. Let me know what you think. I'm still trying to find voices for most of these characters so any help is much appreciated. Enjoy.

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><p>"Perhaps if we follow this ridge…" Basch suggested cautiously, "We shall have a vantage point from which to spot the beast. There are several places to climb down to the plains where we can intercept it once the whereabouts is known." He indicated the ridge in question by drawing a finger along a line on the map which Balthier had earlier drawn on in red ink, the map itself being lacking in any description of the gradient of the terrain.<p>

"Aye, t'would seem the best plan." Balthier concurred in a half-bored drawl, noticed that the young Larsa was trying his best to stay alert and interested beside him, but his eyes were drooping wearily, and he was slumped against his seat, hands clasped loosely in his lap. Sighing softly, the pirate reached for a pencil and traced the line Basch's finger had followed, marking their route. "I suspect if we begin at mid-morning it will be found somewhere in the vicinity of this pond." He announced, drawing attention to the vague blue smudge he had also added to the map earlier. The cartographer's guild were becoming particularly slack lately, and those unfortunate enough to take their maps at face value often didn't return from places like the Tchita Uplands to be able to complain that their map led them into a ravine or cave filled with vicious fiends.

"I don't see why we're hunting game, mark or not." Ashe cut in, her tone reminding Balthier of a stern school teacher. "We have more pressing issues to attend to. Why waste our time on hunts?" Basch had the decency, or perhaps politeness, to look abashed, colour rising in his cheeks as he looked away from the princess' scowl. Balthier on the other hand rolled his eyes with a sigh and looked pleadingly to Fran, silently asking her if they could run away from this mess. She responded with a twitch of her ears which told him no, they could not, so he instead directed his gaze pointedly towards the princess.

"Because, _your Majesty_, in case you had not noticed, we are the most ill equipped army ever formed. Whilst Fran and I have at least been consistently using our weapons for the last 6 years, you have never wielded your sword in anything but a play fight, Vaan and Penelo have not fought anything more pressing than a dire rat, and the dear Captain has spent the last two years withering in a cell. And as our noble back up we have a twelve year old boy so naïve he would fall asleep upon the shoulder of a known sky pirate!" He glared downwards to where Larsa had inadvertently nodded off and curled into Balthier's side.

"Yet you have not moved him." Basch interrupted, indicating that Balthier need only shrug the boy away.

"There is yet tenderness in him, Basch." Fran mused from the corner. "He has youth in him too. He remembers what it is like to be a boy amongst men." She flicked an ear in amusement which earned her a chuckle from Basch and a scowl from Balthier.

"Would that I could remember such days!" Basch yawned, stretching.

"That, old man, is beside the point." Balthier grinned, feral. "Do you not agree that we all need to train more before facing any real enemy."

"Aye, sorry though I am to disappoint you, Majesty, Master Balthier is right. The children at the least have a way to go before they are ready. And the spoils of the hunt will add much needed funds to the party."

"Hey!" Vaan whined from where he and Penelo had been playing cards separately. "We're not children!"

"Shut up Vaan." Penelo swiped him. "Hey Balthier, did I see on the poster that the reward for this hunt includes a powerful dagger?"

"Indeed you did." Balthier replied stiffly as Larsa snuggled into him, oblivious. "It has enchantments which sap the enemy of strength beyond the blow itself."

"Wow! That'd be really useful." Penelo mused, wide eyed. "Vaan!" she chastised, catching him eyeing her hand. "Stop cheating."

"Well there you have it." Balthier turned to Ashe again. "Can you deny Penelo her desire of a new dagger? Or that we need money to buy more supplies? Tis but a day, Princess. Vayne can do little in a day."

"Very well." Ashe conceded, a stiff grimace on her face. "But I will not lose sight of my goal! I shall retire now." With that she swept from the room, the door knocking loudly behind her, causing Larsa to snap awake and jump up.

"Oh! Forgive me Balthier, I did not mean to presume upon you so." He mumbled, embarrassed at his own awkwardness.

"Forget it." Balthier waved a hand in dismissal. "I think perhaps you ought go to bed…"

"Yes, to bed." Larsa nodded sagely before standing. "I bid you all a good night." He bowed slightly before fleeing the room.

"A strange child, that." Fran smiled from her dark corner.

"You might have said the same of me if you had known me at that age." Balthier mused.

"I say it of you often enough now!" Fran retorted with a twitch of her nose, and her ear to match, a sign of rare indulgence in playfulness. "Penelo, please take Vaan with you and go to sleep." She ordered in a motherly tone, and Penelo did her best to stifle Vaan's vague whining as she dragged him to the room they would share.

"Peace at last!" Balthier groaned, flinging a forearm across his eyes and leaning back on his chair. Basch beside him chuckled wryly.

"Get much older before your time and you shall become like me." He warned.

"I think not, Basch, for you see, you possess a quality which I do not."

"Oh? And what might that be?" Basch grinned. "Loyalty? Fealty? Dullness? Pigheadedness? That which defines a country bumpkin?" He teased, leaning close to peel Balthier's arm from his eyes.

"Nay…" Balthier deadpanned. "A beard." The three burst into raucous giggling, which they were obliged to stifle for fear of Ashelia's wrath in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2: The Journey

**AN: **Dear God I can't stop writing... Help me! Tell me if it's awful and I shall stop. Also tell me if it's not, and I shall continue! Enjoy some more...

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><p>"How much further?" Vaan whined, kicking up dust as he dragged his feet.<p>

"A few hundred miles, I am sure." Balthier replied, his voice clipped and strained with the effort not to shoot the boy. "Shut up." Basch snickered from somewhere ahead and Balthier had the urge to shoot him too, but perhaps that was the remnants of the berserker spell Fran had cast on him in their last battle. The party lapsed into silence once more, trudging up the hill towards the ridge where they were hoping to sight the wyrm they were hunting. The brisk climb was taking its toll on the children, who were unused to the ups and downs of the Archadian landscape, more suited to the flat streets of Rabanastre. Balthier wanted to throttle them though, for their ignorance of how difficult this must be for Basch, whose muscle condition, though it was improving greatly, was abysmal. And yet the Captain was striding on ahead as though he could not feel what would almost certainly be the excruciating tightening of his leg muscles and the exhaustion of his over-worked lungs. It was quite a remarkable example of mind over matter, Balthier mused. Cidolphus would find Basch a most interesting specimen.

"Something wicked is near." Fran broke the silence in her usual ominous fashion. Balthier turned to watch her scent the air, and even the children stopped gibbering to gaze at her, head thrown back, ears down flat against her helmet, hair flying in the breeze. "Tis atop this hill." She closed her eyes and tilted her head. "Nay, there are two."

"Wyrms?" Basch asked, always to the point, and almost as trusting in Fran's nose as Balthier was.

"No." Balthier answered for her. "Wyrms are not wicked. She means Malboros."

"Aye… those…" Fran wrinkled her nose, opening her eyes again, and turning to face away from the wind in disgust.

"Malboros? Why are they wicked but wyrms are not?" Basch questioned.

"Because wyrms do not foul the air." Balthier stated as though the Viera's heightened senses and reactions were perfectly normal. "The Marlboros smell awful, and infect and pollute. Fran wont even name them but to say that they are wicked. She thinks the name itself is tainted." He shrugged and drew his weapon.

"And so might you, if you know good from wrong." Fran intoned mysteriously before notching an arrow to her bow and inclining her head up the slope. "We shall rid this fair countryside of these wickednesses. I cannot smell the wyrm whilst they taint the air."

"Certainly, m'lady." Basch replied in a chivalrous manner, before unsheathing his sword and heading over the crest of the hill. Balthier chuckled that he should find such times to make jokes when under usual circumstances he was so dry, before he motioned to the others and they set off over the rise. Sure enough there were two malboro overkings, oozing menacingly towards the party. Basch was headed towards the nearest, so Balthier took it upon himself to unleash a shot at that one, taking out one if its many eyes. Fran had a similar idea, and managed to get one arrow through two eyes, pinning them together grotesquely. Ashe caught up with Basch as he neared the creature, and Penelo timed a perfect protect spell to coincide with their first blows, negating the majority of it's counter attack. Satisfied that that particular creature was well met, Balthier turned his attention to the other, and sighed inwardly.

Vaan had ignored the combined effort at the other beast and had launched himself unguarded at the second. It had already scored one blow to his torso, which Fran was casting a healing spell for, and it was readying to spray its noxious breath all over him when Balthier managed by sheer luck to shoot it right at the back of the throat. It promptly shut its mouth, but that didn't stop it raining down a beating on the boy with its many tentacles. He fell back, wounded, and it advanced for him, only to be stopped in its tracks as Larsa appeared as if from nowhere, flanked by Penelo and her dagger, and the two made short work of it. Balthier sighed out loud this time, and went to the boy, casting cleanse on him to rid him of the monster's poisons.

"Idiot." He grunted, shifting out of the way for Penelo to cast Cura. "You deserve to be dead."

"But I'm not." Vaan had the indecency to grin. "I feel fine, let's keep moving." The adults all sighed and stowed their weapons, and Penelo clucked over Vaan protectively as they all moved off along the ridge in the hopes of sighting the wyrm they were looking for.

"I need to pee…" Vaan whined, an hour later, as they were clambering over some rocks to get to a higher vantage point.

"Dear gods." Ashe exclaimed. "Does he never cease?"

"Dear gods!" Balthier exclaimed in an equally exasperated voice. "My sentiments exactly!"

"So pee." Basch grunted, to the point as ever.

"But I'll get left behind."

"So pee and walk." He shrugged, a mistake since his shoulders were screaming from the exertion of climbing the stones. "It's what you'd expect from a chocobo."

"But I'm not a chocobo…" Vaan whined.

"Deal with it." Ashe hissed. Vaan pouted.

"Hey guys, look at this…" Penelo called.

"What is it?" The all turned to look at her.

"It's a chest. I wonder what one is doing up here…" She reached to open it and Basch, Balthier and Fran simultaneously lunged towards her, drawing their weapons.

"No, don't…" They all cried, in vain, as Ashe and Vaan looked on, perplexed. As soon as Penelo touched it, the mimic which had been masquerading as a chest sprung to life and knocked her flat on her back. Before it could get another blow in it was full of a shot of wyrmfire, a poisoned arrow, and a javelin Basch had been saving for a special occasion. It curled in on itself an lay still, and Penelo sat up, panting, and brushed rock dust from herself. Larsa helped her out with a hi-potion, and she smiled up at him, taking the hand he offered to help her up.

"If a chest is in a stupid place, never, ever open it." Fran scolded her, a clawed finger wagging. "You hume children break too easily."

"Oh, and Viera do not break?" Larsa asked, coy, and if he hadn't been 12 years old, one would have considered it flirting.

"Not so readily as you pale skinned types." She replied, warmly, and ruffled his hair. This seemed to please him, and he turned back to Penelo to check her over. Satisfied, he helped her begin to climb once more.

"I still need to pee!" Vaan whined. Nobody listened.

"I'm hungry…" Vaan whined as the light of the day began to fade to a dull yellow, and they had still not sighted this mysterious wyrm.

"Fantastic." Balthier grunted. "How long until the starvation kills you?"

"That's not funny, Balthier." Penelo frowned.

"Actually," Basch interrupted, and Balthier could not be certain, but he though he could hear a giggle in the Captain's voice. "It is."

"Good god. Basch has finally been cracked." Balthier peered at him as they walked side by side, bringing up the rear of the group.

"Two years of Nalbina couldn't touch me, Balthier, but one day with Vaan has turned me all giddy!" He roared with laughter, and Balthier found it infectious, and chuckled along himself.

"Watch your words, Captain Ronsenberg, people might mistake them for affections for the boy." He grinned.

"Oh god, I don't need any more reason to lose my mind! One should need a paper bag _and _a gag!" The two of them continued to laugh inanely as they staggered along, and either failed to note, or ignored Vaan's protests and Ashe's indignant disgust. Or Penelo and Larsa's snickering, or Fran's ears twitching every few moments.

"Perhaps we ought to call it a day and camp up here the night, it is warm enough and we have supplies with us." Ashe rounded on the party with her suggestion. Balthier sobered enough to nod his agreement, but Basch, too far gone in his laughing, merely waved a hand in acceptance, doubled over and clutching his stomach against the physical pain of his overworked diaphragm. And still he could not restrain this laughter which was bubbling up inside him.

"The freedom has made him quite giddy…" Fran noted, flicking her ear back and forth. "I believe we shall be safe to camp here. Penelo, Larsa, please will you fetch some fire wood? Vaan, you may go and hunt some wyndhares. There are some just around that bend in the road. Princess, shall we fetch water?" Ashe nodded and the two set off, leaving Balthier to aid the aching Captain. The two collapsed onto the grass, and Balthier sat listening silently as Basch's breathing gradually returned to normal.

"All caught up with you has it?" He mused, when he was quite sure that the Captain was calm.

"Aye." Bash replied, sober now, and wiping his streaming eyes with a dubiously dirty sleeve. Not that Balthier had any right to judge, since his cuffs were appalling. "Tis strange, to be free once more."

"Ah, but are you truly free?" Balthier asked. "Or have you put yourself in chains of your own making once more? You are naught but a slave to Ashelia's whims."

"Perhaps so." Bash mused, plucking at the grass between his ankles. "Yet is any man free?"

"Oh please, don't go there, you begin to sound like my father…" Balthier let slip, before realising he was saying too much.

"Oh?" Basch murmured, clearly intrigued but afraid to push.

"He likes his theories. That is all I shall say of him." Balthier looked away, tracing patterns in the dirt.

"Hah." Basch barked, before fumbling through his pack and producing a flask. "Honeywine?" He offered.

"Wine, honey?" Balthier replied, sarcastic, but took a sip nonetheless. "Mmmh. Warms you." He murmured, handing the flask back and watching Basch take a long swallow.

"It does." Basch agreed, and the two lapsed into content silence, passing the drink between them occasionally until the others came back, and the evening resumed as normal.


End file.
